Scrub Mage

Fairy Tail: United we Stand REMAKE

j8cob said
And then you decided to take the Haven one instead. x3

And here I was, fairly sure that we had too many people in Haven as it was.

[OOC] Elder Tale Western: Europe [Log Horizon] [High Casual]

Lennon79 said
[does unspeakable things to best girl Rin internally]My profile's done.

You.
Stay.
Away.
From.
My.
Waifu.

(Oni_ stole that signature from me, by the way.)

SilverDog said Scrub Mage is good at this because, honestly, I think he's clinically insane and writes what first comes to his mind.

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Lel

[OOC] Elder Tale Western: Europe [Log Horizon] [High Casual]

WanderingSpirit said
Hey Swifty just a heads up on me Computah I cant see your picture if your reading this~!

He's right, the link's broken. Hah.

WanderingSpirit said
Haha, I'm guessing last night was a miracle? XP

That's an understatement. I almost had a heart attack.

Now we just wait for him to wake up again.

[High Casual] Elder Tale: Western Europe [Log Horizon Roleplay] [Interest Check]

Tyrant from the West said
Holy fuck, don't wanna start spamming the main page before i start working on the cs but this looks hella complicated :l I haven't tried joining such a complicated rp in a while so im sorry if i ask a ton of questions.

We're here to help.

Or at least try.

Fairy Tail: United we Stand REMAKE

Rucks: Supposedly weaker than Akal and Venn, but may be their only hope one day.

Fairy Tail: United we Stand REMAKE

---

Akal had noticed something as he walked. Many of the similar figures he had noticed earlier were, in fact, too similar. It was as if they were the same person. Akal found that strange. He wondered what they would taste like; probably bland and tasteless, but there was a chance that they would also taste exotic. But he had already wasted enough time here for personal gain. It was time to actually gather flesh, bones, and souls for Ishak. He hadn’t picked up the bones he had left in the alley way, mostly because he had nothing to hold them with. He had expected Venn to take care of that, but Venn just sat there on the rooftop, staring at the ground below. Why had he come along anyways? He felt like an older brother that “supervises” a younger brother, who is doing all the work. While Akal respected Venn, things like this did agitate him. So, instead of collecting the bones himself, Akal wandered back to the cultist on the bench, sitting next to him.

The cultist, the one with the mask, was doing something. Akal looked at whatever it was he was doing, a hint of curiosity made evident by the way that Akal’s head was tilted and how he stared at it. He watched for a time, noticing how focused the cultist was. He leaned in close and whispered to the cultist. “Bones. Alley. Under rubble. Grab them. Bring back.” Akal said, quickly, before returning back to staring at the thing in the cultist’s hands. It was fascinating. What magic was the cultist using? Did it have any offensive applications? It was very neat. Akal continued to stare on with childlike wonder and soon he drifted into the recesses of his own mind.

Akal wasn’t the only one fascinated by this. Some of the other personalities residing within his mind calmed down, relieving the pressure from behind his eyes. Things like this managed to calm him. His hands shook, but he did not notice and did not care. He sat far enough away from the cultist that his shaking hands would not bother him. While Akal focused intently on the task at the cultist’s hands, he felt himself slipping, mentally that is. Reasserting dominance and control, he forced himself away from the cultist. Standing up, he walked into another direction entirely, much to the dismay of the personalities who were also focused on the cultist’s task. It was strange, they were deprived of their senses, but something compelled them to focus. It was, odd, to say the least.

The direction he had chosen to wander was one chosen in a near-panic. It was not thought through, one might say that it was chosen at random, but that is not the truth. It was chosen because of Akal’s subconscious attitude. He was drawn to the direction that seemed to lead towards the place where he had been forced to abandon his meal. It seemed to haunt him. He hoped that the body might still be there, abandoned, but he knew that this would not be the case. This was probably not a good idea, but it was made in a panic. Decisions made during a panic were hardly good ones.

Just as he suspected, there was no abandoned body. But he thought he saw another of the all-too-similar visitors. He did not like these visitors. They were probably bland and tasteless. Like cardboard. He was suspicious of them. They looked too similar. He did not like it one bit. So, he turned again, moving in a direction that was, again, chosen in a panic. This time, he found himself wandering towards the heavily-armored figure digging holes. He would not panic so much around that one. It was probably disgusting. He would not be compelled to eat while it was around. It would give him time to think, maybe come up with a plan. Akal sat on a bench near the armored figure, staring at him. He was both repulsed and fascinated. What was it in those boxes? Why was this armored figure digging holes? Akal stared, his head tilted, lost once again in thought. He remembered the last time he saw a figure like this. It was offered forth as a sacrifice. It had betrayed him, it had betrayed Venn, and it had betrayed Ishak. When it was offered forth, it looked delicious. But when it was accepted, it became disgusting. It was not edible. It reminded Akal of lutefisk. Just the thought of the stuff caused Akal to grow angry. Maybe it was the bitter taste of betrayal? Maybe it was the fact that it was embalmed? Regardless, Akal stayed away from meats encased in metal. It repulsed him. This one was no different. Akal hated just looking at it. But he did not feel hungry. It gave him time to think.

Almost night fall. Close. So close. He could feel it in his gut, which was beginning to growl, as if it were begging for food. It was impressive, really, Akal ate all the time, and yet he gained almost no weight. He blinked. Off topic. Off track. Think. Think. Ishak didn’t care how the meat tasted. He needed it, but he didn’t want it, he had said to Akal once. Akal needed lots of meat. Where could he get lots of meat, quickly, without much risk? Akal tilted his head to his left side, a symbol of his anger. Shake. Shake. Shake. The noise distracted him. Akal sat on his hands to stop the noise. Then he started to swing his feet. It was childlike, but something that helped him focus. Restaurant? Close, but no. Inn? No. Bar? Maybe. But those places had lots of people. That could be a threat, especially since Venn insisted on standing on rooftops instead of helping Akal harvest.

The streets were probably safest. Dark. Easy to run in the event of trouble. But that’s where he had been striking most frequently. They would suspect it, surely. Akal looked back up at the armored figure, who seemed to be humming something under his breath. A hymn, maybe? It sounded similar to a hymn Akal had once heard, but even then, it might not have actually been a hymn. That’s what the chanter had called it, anyways. That gave Akal an idea. A church, maybe? Or whatever the equivalent was here. Akal didn’t know what this town had. It was a foreign town. He’d have to look around. But what if it was empty? He could probably use it to hide his “crops”, if that were a case, so he could easily drag them all back.

What else was there? Bars would be a good place to target. Drunkards weren’t good at fighting. But they had numbers. Restaurants also had lots of people. Inns were the worst he had thought of, but also the best. It had drunkards, numbers, and sleeping victims. But, some of those numbers were sober and coherent. They could hurt him. Maybe after he had spent some time as the Reaver he would attempt that. For now, he would wait a little longer. He was content on this bench, at least for a while. The armored figure continued its work as he sat. It had not noticed him yet. Akal looked on with a look of repulsion and curiosity in the shape of his eyes and the way his head was tilted. What was it doing, he wondered.

[High Casual] Elder Tale: Western Europe [Log Horizon Roleplay] [Interest Check]

Tyrant from the West said
why not the black marsh? It sounds sooooo edgy D8

Black Marsh - Literally one of the most overused names in fantasy.

[High Casual] Elder Tale: Western Europe [Log Horizon Roleplay] [Interest Check]

Ostarion said Ah, for that I enlisted the aid of someone who definitely-didn't-post-in-this-thread.

Spoiler alert: It's SilverDawn.

Everybody be sure to tell her that her map isn't good.

Fairy Tail: United we Stand REMAKE

---

Almost nightfall. Almost time to get up and start again. Akal stretched out as he stood up, causing his bones to let out loud cracks. He felt old, older than he thought he was. The body he now claimed to be owner of was not old enough to have cracking bones. But it must have been, if they were cracking, right? Akal only had a rough approximation of how old this body was, though that was all he had. He knew that it had been through a lot, but that's all he knew. As he stood to his full height, his knees began to ache for a few moments. Akal let out a small grunt, signifying the pain he felt, but it was not enough to warrant any other response. He had remained undisturbed by the world outside of this little alley way, but there was no peace to be found. While others may have found the silence and isolation tranquil, Akal found that silence and isolation were rarities. With too many personalities to count all screaming at one another, it was impossible to find any semblance of peace. Akal cursed the man responsible for his captivity within this loud prison under his breath. Akal sometimes found himself wondering if he was always the way he was now, if he always savored the taste of flesh upon his tongue; but now was not one of those moments, now Akal had found himself thinking about the meal he had been unable to acquire.

The taste, oh the taste! What could it have possibly tasted like! Some people tasted like chicken, or beef, sometimes like dog, other times like cat, occasionally pork, once duck, twice turkey, thrice rabbit, and there was that one instance where the meal tasted like pineapple, cabbage, peanut butter, cashews, and deep fried pigeon, all at once. But the meal he had been forced to abandon, it was plump and juicy and ladled with fat and that crimson sauce and it was fresh, oh so fresh and and and and and and and and… and it had the smell of a visitor, not one of the wet dogs that this town smelled like. Akal imagined the taste upon his tongue, the oh-so savory delectable delicious succulent juicy rich appetizing flavorful luscious pungent divine zestful taste. It would have been wondrous. Akal closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. This town smelt of wet dog and the meals he had here were infected deeply with this stench, making them less appealing than they ought to be. Still, despite the stench of wet dog and the taste of said odor, he had enjoyed his time spent here.

One of his victims here tasted of chicken, a flavor he was quite fond of, though he found that chickens had begun to taste less and less like chicken to him. That was an odd thought; maybe the flavor he identified as chicken was just a certain something, a certain zest in the meat of many of his meals, and not really resembling a chicken at all. Maybe it was a certain blood-type, staining the meats and flesh of his meals with a flavor dependent on which type it was. Or perhaps it was the climate that they were in, or had grown up in. He knew that overworked meat tasted less delicious then meat that had never worked a day in its life. Although, there was that one instance in which the overworked meat had taken on a unique flavor, different than the other meats on his meal’s bones. That had created a truly unique taste, one that Akal remembered fondly.

Akal exhaled deeply, expelling the stench of wet dog from his lungs. Was this actually the smell of wet dog? Akal had been using the term to explain when he didn’t like a particular smell after hearing Ishak curse one of his servants for bringing the stench into his monastery. Akal hadn’t smelled a wet dog. He didn’t even know that wet dogs smelled different than regular dogs. Maybe this town did not smell like a wet dog. But Akal would keep addressing it as such. It felt better to say then “this town smells like dung”. But regardless of the phrase he used to state it, Akal did not like the smell of this town. It lingered in his nose, forcing its way into his perception. Akal growled in discontent as he felt the smell forcibly enter his mind. As Akal tried desperately to force the smell from his mind, he heard the unorganized choir of voices try to take advantage of his current predicament. They pushed together, chaotically, each trying to wrest control from Akal, each fighting for independence and never together. That made them weak. They fought not just Akal, but each other. Akal found himself silently wondering if any one of them realized that they would have to fight to maintain this position should they take control.

His white eyes blinked, their gaze focused at nothing. Akal had lost the color and pupils in his eyes, leaving only blank white dots in their place. Even the veins he once had in his eyes seemed to be nonexistent. But behind these blinking white dots, he felt physical and mental pain. It felt like there was something pushing against the back of his eyes, trying to escape, but unable to do so. Akal pitied those trapped within him, perhaps because they pitied themselves. Perhaps the combined pity of all of these personalities leaked into Akal’s own, making him fell mournful for what they had lost. Another question entered Akal’s mind: Did each of these personalities have a soul of its own? It was a strange thought, but one that Akal found himself thinking quite frequently. Akal knew about spirits, he knew that’s why magic was possible, or at least that is what he was taught by Ishak. Were spirits and souls the same thing? If so, then surely he would have more magic at his disposal if each of the personalities that plagued his mind had a spirit, would he not? Maybe they were able to use it, but he was limited to his own magical abilities. It was a curious line of thought, but one that haunted Akal. He secretly hoped that each of the personalities had its own spirit, so that they would remain untainted by Akal’s own disgusting sins. Akal was a monster in his own way, which was without a doubt, but he was not without empathy; he was just… wrong in a great number of ways.

Akal snapped back to reality. He had been leaning against a wall this entire time, or maybe he was just recalling his meditation a few moments prior. Whatever the case, as Akal stood up and shook the dirt from his cloak, he turned and walked out of the alleyway he found himself in. He saw many people, some looked like new arrivals, visitors. They would taste good. He saw a lot of similar-looking people as he walked along the darkening streets, or maybe they were the same person. Maybe it was a guild? Best to avoid them. One person he saw in particular stood out though, a man clad in armor, digging holes and putting boxes in them. He looked like he was in a park. Best to avoid that one, its meat was probably no good. Anyone clad in such an amount of armor is hiding something underneath it. In Akal’s experience, it is something unpleasant. Once he had peeled the armor off of a corpse only to find it embalmed. Disgusting.

It was still relatively light out, though it’d be night soon. Akal did not want to wait more, but he would avoid doing anything for at least a few more moments. Venn was here somewhere but Akal could not see him from the ground. Maybe he was on a rooftop somewhere? Venn was weird like that, but he was strong, clever on occasion as well. He was a good guild-mate, one that Akal was pleased to call a fellow member of The Dead Triumvirate. But while he did not notice Venn, he did notice someone sitting down. A familiar face, well rather, a familiar mask sat at one of these benches, doing something with a jar. This one was a weird one. Akal didn’t know his name, but he knew his mask. He liked the ones who wore masks. Masked men always have something to hide, he had once been told, and Akal’s imagination ran wild with theories. A tasty face probably hid under that mask, but he didn’t eat others from Necropolis unless he was ordered to by Ishak himself. Akal stared at the mask for a small while, trying to remember the owner’s name. Racks? Runts? Ruts? Rox? It was something with the letter R. Akal shook his head and kept walking. Almost night now, almost. It’d only be a few more moments before he could find another delicious meal. So many visitors! So many exotic flavors just waiting to dance on his tongue and in his mind.

Fairy Tail: United we Stand REMAKE

---

The authorities were on to him, that much he knew for sure. They had found the strangled corpse of whoever's bones he broke, lying there, in the street. He had seen it with his own eyes, from a distance. He watched the wizards, though he could not understand what was said from so far away. But he knew that it was serious when the woman speaking to them had decided to march away. But what he remembered the most, was the deep longing to go back over to the strangled and broken thing. He wanted to rip it to shreds, chew it, taste it upon his tongue. He fantasized about the delicious taste, almost rushing over to indulge his cravings. But he knew that he was too weak to do so. Something reminded him that if he would have gone to the broken body, he would have attracted the attention of even more wizards. It was painful to know that he could not even dare to nibble upon the flesh of that sweet, succulent, juicy, delectable looking flesh. But he knew he was weak. He knew that, even if he were to succeed in the murdering of the crowd around the corpse, that he would be overrun and destroyed. He blinked curiously, his antlers returning to their normal size. Akal turned and disappeared into the alley he had been standing before, finding a victim that could not run. He did not look as satisfying, but he would do for now.

Shake. Shake. Shake. Shake. It didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop. But Akal did not notice it. It was a normal thing by now. He had grown used to it. But what Akal did notice was the constant scratching of his calloused hands. He looked down at his hands, watching them. He had been resting his right hand atop his left, but the shaking of his hands caused his sharp and unkempt nails to scratch his palms ever so lightly. Despite the hardened nature of his hands, he had heard the curious sound and looked down. They were covered in blood. That tasty, delicious, savory, sweet, delectable, red liquid that he loved to lap up like a dog. A soft drip snapped Akal out of his enchantment and he noticed a thin string of saliva connecting the blood on his hand to his mouth. Breaking the strand, Akal stuck his tongue out to clean his bloodied hands. As the delicious crimson substance touched his tongue, he felt the flavor hit his mind. That delicious, other-worldly, inexplicable, and satisfying substance always tasted so delicious. But it always seemed to make his mouth feel a tad drier. Smacking his lips, he registered the taste of the rotting chunks of flesh between his teeth. It filled his heart with joy as he let his tongue dig out these chunks, so that he may let them rest on his tongue. When that failed, he took a small pointed stick from the ground beneath him and used it to dig them out by force. With his teeth cleaned and his cravings slightly satisfied, Akal was able to snap back to reality.

The corpse in front of him was shoved into the corner as far as it could go, with Akal leaning above it. Visible chunks had been torn from the flesh and in some places; these chunks went deep enough for one to see the bones of the poor soul. Akal realized that the patterns of the chunks matched those that he made while within his Reaver form. Maybe that was why he was tired. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had just woken up a few moments ago. Closing his eyes to focus on his memories, Akal knew that he had definitely been in his Reaver form. It’s not that he forgot, he always remembered being in his Reaver form, but he did just wake up, so his memory was cloudy. Humming idly underneath his breath, Akal remembered the two victims of his. One had been a young woman, whom he had beaten until her bones were broken, and then strangled her for good measure. He didn’t get to taste the sweet succulent flesh that she had, which angered Akal greatly. But he knew that he’d be seen if he stuck around. As much as he wanted to dig his nails into her skin and then rip it out to greedily devour, he could not, for he had heard people who would have seen him. It angered him. It still angered him. He wanted to dig his teeth into the fat, delicious, succulent, juicy, uncooked, raw, red, jaw-dropping flesh. But he had been denied. But he wasn’t all that angry. He was able to secure a meal in this alley, it was not as delicious looking, but it would hold him over for now. It was nice and quiet for now.

Well, that was a bit too soon. The noise of dozens, or maybe even hundreds, of different personalities came crashing down upon him. He was exhausted and could not resist them right now. He fell down, overcome by the sudden noise, and blacked out. Well, not exactly. He was back within the blackened, sensory-deprived prison that he absolutely loathed. He was there for a time, too exhausted to escape the hell. But he was able to hear the other personalities. They were fighting amongst each other, none gaining control. Akal imagined what was going on “outside”. He could almost see the body that he had taken control of, slumped over a corpse. Neither of them would respond to outside stimuli, mostly because one was dead. Speaking of which, that poor soul was probably locked up with Akal in this hell now. As if on cue, Akal could ”hear” the man’s personality panic. Hear was a loose term. Akal had no sensory functions in the traditional sense here. Instead, he had his will, a flurry of memories that weren’t his, and the strange but instinctual ability to understand pure thoughts… as well as the ever present hunger that gnawed at him. It was a strange concept. If Akal wanted to, he could think about that for an eternity. Time passed strangely here. Perhaps it didn’t pass at all. No, that was a ridiculous thought, Akal knew time passed here, the evidence lied in the fact that he was able to wrest control of the body that wasn’t really his.

Done writhing in the disgusting prison that he knew all-too-well, Akal used his will to push through the other minds. But it wasn’t just his will, but also his hunger, that allowed him to do so. They could not force him from control, at least, not permanently. Akal was thankful for that. As his senses came back to him, Akal felt that rush that came to him when he was able to see, smell, feel, taste, and hear. He blinked, looking at the mangled corpse in front of him. Leaning down, he took a bite of the man’s flesh. It wasn’t fresh flesh, but it still hit the spot. Akal figured that he’d be here for a while, so he dug his teeth deep into whatever flesh remained for him to eat. He ate with such ferocity that each bite he took produced a loud clacking noise, due to his teeth hitting each other. It would have hurt if this was not a normal occurrence. Akal loved food.

When Akal finished his meal, he stood up and stretched. Not too long had passed, so he was unable to use any magic still. But the voices in his head screamed at one another, at him, at anything they could. Pulling his cloak close, Akal left the alley and started walking along the street. The cloak did a good job of hiding his features, even though it was technically one of his features. But still, he stuck to the darker parts of the street, taking paths that few walked along. Despite the risk in staying, Akal still needed something to bring back Ishak. He had a soul, that might prove enough, but Akal wanted to give Ishak more. He wanted to give him flesh and bone as well. But he also wanted to get something in return for the beautiful meal he was forced to ignore earlier.

Akal would most likely wait until night to strike again, but he wanted to get a view of the city he was in. Haven, he believed it was called. Akal chuckled. Some haven this place was, if it was this easy to find victims. Smacking his lips together, Akal took another step forth. Click clack, click clack. There was no shaking right now. That was what Akal was focusing primarily on; not shaking. It was a rather monumental task for him. But it needed to be done in a public environment. Akal frowned at that thought. He was always so hungry in towns. The flesh around him teased him and danced around his mind. It became hard to keep himself in check, but it was even harder to do so when nobody else was there to help him with that task. But luckily, Venn was somewhere in Haven, or near Haven. They had come here together, but Venn was doing something on a rooftop or something. Akal didn't really pay attention to him, instead opting to sniff out a suitable meal.

As Akal stepped forward, the smell of grilling meat hit his nose, causing him to take a deep breath. It smelled like beef of some sort. Akal’s face contorted in disgust. The only meat worth eating was that of a human. Not an embalmed human though. They tasted like lutefisk. Akal gagged at the thought of eating an embalmed corpse and then at the thought of eating lutefisk. He had done that once. But he stopped thinking about it as he continued to focus on not shaking. Akal could not do it. He could not wander around the town. He would be caught for sure. He slunk back into the darkened alleyway that he had been in not even a few minutes ago. He gathered the bones of his victim and pondered what to with them. They had been stripped clean by him earlier, but now he had to get rid of them somehow. Deciding that the best course of action would be to simply conceal them underneath something, he moved them underneath some junk. He'd lay here for awhile, gathering enough strength to use his magic again. He sat against the wall and closed his eyes again. To any passerby, he'd just look like a homeless man, or a wanderer, just trying to get some rest. Hopefully that'd keep them from bothering him before he went out to gather some nice juicy corpses to bring back to his master. Akal licked his lips at the thought. Tasty, tasty, tasty. His stomach grumbled, but he didn't seem to notice, it was all too common nowadays.